


Back From The Grave

by renegadekarma



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Clintasha - Freeform, F/M, Finding out that Coulson's alive, pre-HYDRA takeover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-11
Updated: 2014-05-11
Packaged: 2018-01-24 07:26:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1596527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/renegadekarma/pseuds/renegadekarma
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff discover that a certain co-worker of theirs who was "killed" by Loki is actually alive and breathing, and he needs their help.</p><p>In which Natasha takes out her anger at Coulson on a conference table, Skye hacks the two assassins, and Clint brings up old times with May.</p><p>Set pre-HYDRA takeover of SHIELD.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Back From The Grave

**Author's Note:**

> Decided that we needed a little bit of Ward with the team, and of course, Clintasha is always appreciated.
> 
> [Dedicated to Fran!]

An arrow whistled through the air, burying itself into the nearest tree. A redhead, sitting merely inches beneath the quivering hilt, didn’t so much as flinch or glance up from the gun that she was reassembling in her lap.

“Hey, Romanoff, you got a minute?” a voice called, and only then did she look up at the person who’d fired the arrow.

“For you, Barton? I’ve got half of one. What’s up?” Natasha replied.

Clint slid down beside her, pulling the arrow from the tree and into the quiver on his back. “Nothing, really, I just wanted to say hi.”

“There’s more than that,” Natasha teased.

Clint shrugged. “Is it a crime for a man to just see his beautiful girlfriend without having a specific reason?”

“I’m not your girlfriend, Barton, I’m your partner,” the Russian replied, although her tone was teasing, the faint glimmer in her eye assuring him not to take it seriously.

“Same thing, as far as I’m concerned,” he replied almost dismissively.

Natasha reassembled her gun, clicking the parts together. “It felt an ounce too heavy,” she explained, feeling the curious gaze of her partner upon her even as she kept her own eyes trained on her weapon. “But I got rid of the dead weight.”

“Like you always do,” Clint replied, polishing the points of his arrow using the fabric of his shirt. “Hey, did you get that message from the Hub saying that they needed to see us?”

Placing the gun between them, Natasha pulled out her phone from her pocket and flipped through the latest messages. “Yes. We’ve got an hour, though.”

“What do you say we make the most of it, then, Romanoff?” Clint smirked at the assassin, and she grinned back at the sharpshooter.

“I’d say that that was the first good idea you’ve had since Budapest,” she smirked in reply.

***

Precisely an hour later, right at the time indicated in their messages, the two specialists arrived at the Hub, their hair slightly tousled so that Natasha was forced to give it a quick comb with her fingers as she studied her reflection in the elevator buttons.

Victoria Hand, the red highlights in her hair looking brighter than usual (they’d just been touched up; Natasha was dying to ask her where she got her hair done because her own red was slowly starting to dull), glanced over at the agents who entered. That was peculiar; normally, she spared no time and nonsense, although she presently stood in front of them, her hands twisting together.

“You need to see someone,” she informed them tersely.

“I kind of got that impression the moment we stepped in here, Tori,” Clint replied.

Hand didn’t wait even a moment to reply, “Don’t call me that.”

“Whatever.”

The brunette continued on as if she hadn’t heard him, tugging on her vivid locks buried between the dark strands. “It’s… another agent. He hasn’t seen you in a while, and we want you to meet him. Again, of course. And maybe even accompany him on a mission.”

Clint and Natasha didn’t even need to exchange a glance to know they were both wondering the same thing.

“Who?” Natasha ventured curiously after a moment.

In response, Hand strode down between the row of computers and nervous hackers, who glanced up at the assassins before frantically returning to their work. Hand crooked a finger and the specialists followed, shooting each other another exasperated look.

As they followed the woman, another young woman with curling brown hair approached the two of them and gave them what appeared to be a smirk.

“That’s Skye. She’s one of C-“ Hand cut off abruptly, “She’s a consultant. She’s the one who managed to send that message to you two.”

“Is that why I got it on my personal phone instead of the SHIELD-issued one?” Natasha scowled only for a moment as she studied the younger woman, who stood against a door looking supremely proud. “Nice. How’d you do it?”

“Can’t give away all my secrets now, can I?” Skye shrugged in return. “Anyway, I’m here because you two are supposed to meet one of my teammates. The others are over there.” She jerked her head to the left at a group of people gathered not far from them.

Clint and Natasha glanced over simultaneously, taking in the four. Two were young, nervous-looking scientists, one was a tall, dark, and brooding specialist who eyed them warily, and the fourth was a familiar face.

“May,” Clint greeted the woman. “You’re looking well. What are you doing out in the field?”

“Didn’t you hear? I’ve been recruited to join a team now, no more paperwork for me,” May replied.

“Is it any better than our team from that time we went on a mission to Rio?” Clint asked her, cocking an eyebrow in amusement.

“Considering that none of them have perched atop the statue of Christ the Redeemer and made bird calls at the confused, passing tourists, I’ll say yes,” May replied, her mouth remaining firmly neutral although her eyes twinkled very briefly.

The tall specialist beside her murmured something to the two scientists. One of them – the girl – looked up at him and then at Natasha in alarm, murmuring back, “You can’t say _eye candy_.” Natasha pretended not to notice.

Hand still remained with Clint and Natasha, looking nervous. “This way,” she motioned, pushing past the ragtag group of agents before coming to a stop outside a room. “He’s waiting,” she added finally, pointing in.

It took all of Natasha’s willpower (and years of working with Clint Barton) to resist rolling her eyes at the other agent’s dramatic nature, but she proceeded into the room, the archer only a step behind her.

As the door shut behind them, the redhead’s eyes widened.

“What the hell?” Clint exclaimed after a moment.

Phil Coulson sat at the head of a conference table, his hands clasped in front of him professionally as he studied the two assassins with something akin to affection in his weary eyes.

“Romanoff, Barton,” he nodded at each, inclining his head briefly to greet them, “I take it that the Attack on New York went well.”

A knife spun through the air and buried itself in the wood of the conference table, only an inch from Coulson’s hands. He didn’t flinch.

Natasha strode forward angrily, retrieving her knife. “Was this a joke to you?” she hissed at the man. “Letting us think that you were _dead_?”

“Personally, I thought that I was dead too, so I can’t really help you with that one,” Coulson shrugged.

Narrowing her eyes at him, the Russian asked, “How did you survive Loki’s attack? And why didn’t you fight with us?”

Coulson looked uncomfortable. “Most of the details remain classified, even to me. I was dead for a while, but a medical miracle brought me to life – after the attack had already been completed.”

Clint had been standing near the entrance of the room, brooding, but now he came forward and reached out. For a moment, Coulson wondered if the man was about to strike him, but instead, Clint’s arm rested on Coulson’s shoulder. “It’s good to have you back,” he added at last.

Natasha shot him an irritated look. “He _lied_ to us, Clint.”

Clint wasn’t too bothered. “You’ve lied to me and the rest of us loads of times, haven’t you? It’s part of the job.”

“Did Fury order your silence?” Natasha demanded of Coulson, whipping back around. Her shoulder-length red hair whipped around in a spiral that slapped Clint in the face (intentionally, of course).

Coulson only nodded, and Natasha let out an unamused sigh. SHIELD operated on a hierarchy of protocol and referring to one’s higher-ups, and when one was ordered to keep silent, there was no way to get around it without disobeying.

“Alright.” Natasha was still frosty, but her lips were less tense now, her jaw less tight as she took a seat at the conference table, Clint following her lead. “What’s the mission?”

“We need an excellent liar, and a sharpshooter as well, which is where you two come in. There’s a Centipede operation in Vienna that we need to neutralize,” Coulson replied, leaning forward with a glimmer in his eyes now that the attention was on their job and not him.

The two assassins listened to the debriefing in silence, nodding every so often but keeping their eyes trained on his, still in disbelief. After so long of believing him dead, the fact that they now saw him living and breathing in front of them was baffling. Fortunately, both had been trained to bury their emotions, at least until a time when they weren’t in public.

“Alright,” Natasha nodded again, finally, standing up to leave the room. Halfway to the door, she twisted halfway round and fixed Coulson with the most piercing stare she could manage. “Die on us again, and I’ll make sure you stay that way, Coulson. Do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly,” Coulson replied, paling only slightly as Clint got up and followed his partner, hiding a smirk.


End file.
